


Give a Sh*t and Show Them

by entirely_the_wrong_sort



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Gen, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 18:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9836726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entirely_the_wrong_sort/pseuds/entirely_the_wrong_sort
Summary: Draco, just like the Chosen One, was really just a boy. And Narcissa was a mother above everything else. A little moment between the two of them, in the summer before seventh year.





	

**Author's Note:**

> An oldie I found whilst raiding my dusty fic folders! Short but an old favourite of mine that I thought I'd revive, apropos of nothing.

“Draco, honey, you didn’t come down for dinner. Are you alright?” Narcissa spoke with a gentleness that she seemed to reserve only for her son and husband. With a click of the large oak door, she glided across her son’s cavernous room to where he was sat on the edge of his king-sized bed, gripping the sheets and looking for all the world like a lost puppy. He started when he heard his mother’s voice and sighed with relief.

He’d been looking more and more anxious and preoccupied for a while; ever since he had found out that Snape would become headmaster of Hogwarts and that he would be returning. Narcissa bit her lip and placed an elegant hand on his cheek. Draco seemed to melt under her touch. 

“Well no, not really,” he paused, considering his thoughts, “I’m kinda worried about going back to Hogwarts.”

“Why, sweetheart?” This was a surprise to Narcissa. With everything that had happened this past year, especially these last few weeks, she had thought Hogwarts would be the least of her son’s worries, if not a huge relief to be away from here. This place of death and fear and cold that was not too long ago, their family home.

“It’s just… well, at least three quarters of the school is going to hate me. I mean- before they didn’t like me but I didn’t care, they don’t matter, but now… they’re going to actually _hate_ me, actively, y’know…”

Narcissa frowned slightly. “Draco, don’t be ridiculous – ” she crooned.

“No!” Draco interjected suddenly frustrated, he was on the verge of tears. “Of course they will. Everyone knows it was me who- who let them in. I’m the one responsible for Dumbledore’s death. Everyone knows that!”

“You didn’t kill him, it’s not your f- not directly…” Narcissa looked away uncomfortably. Of course it was Draco’s fault, but she couldn’t say that.

 

“Yes it is, I accept that. But I never intended to go back. I never thought it’d be compulsory. I don’t want to go back to be hated and scorned.”

“Well, those people don’t matter, you know that. Your friends are the only ones whose opinions matter, just ignore everyone else!”

“Mother, I don’t have any friends!” Draco stared up at his mother, desperation in his tear-filled eyes, chin quivering. Narcissa crouched down in front of the bed till she was looking up at him. It felt like he was five again, like the biggest problem on earth was that he’d lost his favourite teddy-bear. He still looked the same to her, even beyond the premature years and the fear and the sickliness.

“Now, you are being ridiculous. You have plenty of friends – ”

“No mother, I really don’t! My closest friends are Crabbe and Goyle and they’re idiots! We don’t even like each other, we have a… a partnership. That’s all it ever was.” He voice began to crack, a look of almost disgust of his pale face. “After them it’s Pansy and she’s no better than the gargoyles! I mean, I talk to people, I’m not an outcast; but there’s no one I’ve been able to call a… friend… and now anyone who did have any ounce of respect for me- well, they won’t treat me the same. Not anymore.”

Narcissa wiped away the lone tear that had finally escaped Draco’s eyes. She could only stare, her heart breaking as she listened to her son’s thoughts. She had no idea the way he’d been living had bothered him so much; she knew it all to be true. Silently, she pulled him into a hug, holding on tight as though he would fall apart, held him as only a mother could, washing away all his worries.

“I’ve been such a fool, mother. I hate being a Death Eater. I’ve wasted my life on being an arrogant bully. That’s all I was, no wonder people don’t like me.” Draco softly sobbed into her neck.

Narcissa shushed and soothed him trying to keep the pain out of her own voice. To hear him talk like this, it was hurtful; she was shaking with maternal indignation and powerlessness. All she could do was help him to change, help him leave behind the child he had been, and accept whatever path he chose for the future. She would not let him carry on like this for another seventeen years.

“Well, we know what we can do, don’t we?” Taking his shoulders, she pushed Draco gently away and looked him in the eyes, “we can start again. Show everyone they were wrong about you.”

Draco stared incredulously at her “Mother, don’t be stupid. I’m in my last year, how can I start again?”

“It’s never too late to start again, never too late to change. And you have Crabbe and Goyle and Pansy by your side no matter what you say Draco. They’ll stick by you.”

“No, they won’t. They’re not loyal, not friends like Potter had. He had it all. I wish I were him, always have – ” he gasped, stopping himself before he said anymore. He was shocked by this. The words had left his mouth before he’d had time to consult his brain. “I- I- I didn’t… mean that?” he shook his head in disbelief at his mother surprised to find that he very much did mean it. Narcissa, though, was more surprised to find herself smiling.

“Well, you know what?”

“What?” Draco breathed still horrified at his new revelation.

“You already had it all. You’re a wonderful, brave, clever young man, Draco. You’re so full of love you don’t even realise it.” Draco was shaking his head vigorously in avid disagreement. Narcissa took his chin in her hand, stroking his cheek with her well manicured thumb. “Yes, Draco. How many other boys could’ve done the things you’ve done? You’re the best son a mother could ask for. And you are going to become a powerful, successful, brilliant man. And do you know how?” 

Draco sniffed, staring entranced into his mother’s beautiful blue eyes, drinking in her every word.

“By going back to school, studying hard and getting your NEWTs. You’ll work hard and you’ll be braver for it, and if anybody mistreats or belittles you, you leave them be. If they don’t – ” she paused and took a deep breath, “if they don’t give a shit about knowing you, then you give a shit and show them yourself.” 

Draco stared open mouthed at Narcissa. He had never heard his mother swear before. In fact, he was unaware she even knew any swear words.

“Say it, go on. Say it and mean it.” She urged, deadly serious, still holding him lest he break into a million pieces.

“I’m not going to say that.”

“Draco. If you say it, and mean it, then it’s true.”

There was an awkward pause before he softly repeated her words.

“Louder!” she hissed through gritted teeth, shaking him slightly.

“If they don’t give a shit about me, then I give a shit and show them!” Draco smiled and Narcissa laughed pulling him into a hug. Draco wiped his tired, still prickling eyes.

“Well done sweetheart. Now don’t you feel better? Come on get into bed, I’ll tuck you in.”

“Mother!” he moaned as he did, in fact, swing himself into bed, “I’m seventeen years old!” Narcissa proceeded to pull his sheets up to his sharp, still tear-streaked chin. 

“So? You’re still my baby however old you are. And you’re never too old for mummy’s love.” She kissed him on the forehead with a slightly mischievous grin. Draco mumbled in exasperation as she smoothed out his sheets and fluffed his pillow. She caught phrases like ‘nearly adult’ and ‘so embarrassing’. “How am I embarrassing? There’s no one else in the room!” As she looked warmly into his perfect face that still looked to her like it did seventeen years ago, she could see there was still a niggle of worry behind those silver eyes.

“Mother?” he said with an air of awkwardness as though he wasn’t quite sure if he was even allowed to think this let alone voice it.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Clearly avoiding her eyes, he opened and closed his mouth a few times like a helpless fish, fidgeting with the recently smoothed sheets. “Go on, say it,” she pushed.

“… Is… is _he_ … staying here?” he searched her face for the answer he wanted but knew in his heart he wouldn’t get. “Is this – will he be here? Forever?” Narcissa paused and swallowed the lump in her throat. It was all she could do not to cry. 

“No. I promise.”

“How do you…?” 

Balling her fists, she leaned in till her lips were brushing his ear, her hair tickling Draco’s face, and whispered: “He won’t make it to forever.” 

As she straightened up, Draco was gaping at her in wide eyed surprise.

“Night night.” She began to walk away. But Draco, in his shock and excitement (and could it be- hope?), he blurted out:

“Do you want Potter to win, too?”

She froze with her hand on the snake-embellished door knob and turned back around. He was looking so intensely, so desperately, so searchingly at her that she almost looked away. Inwardly she frowned trying to fathom out his words. Had he meant to say ‘too’?

She raised a finger to her lips to shush him in his nonsense talk, corner of the mouth twitching into a tiny smile.

“Goodnight, Draco,” she breathed, opening the door with a nod so slight it may not have been there at all…


End file.
